Like a fallen smooth emerald leaf
from the tree of amber,
a sudden thrust of old ends,
and the rush of new begins.
There is a small tint of crimson
which forms as a bud on the bark,
and that pink is a girl of petite,
whose eyes have just opened.
With such splendid beauty
comes the view of reality.
Pink turns a strict burgundy,
the girl walks with grace.
Her eyes seem to open wider,
revealing spheres of brown,
with specks of night reflecting in them,
she sees with precision.
Suddenly, her attention shifts,
and feet twist in a sharp curve,
she has made a new discovery,
burgundy petals spread apart and...
met with the hypnotic eyes of another,
the woman whimpers through broken lips:
You have captured me; I am trapped
within the walls of what seems a paradise on earth,
if you let me loose, I will not go,
and you really would not want me to go.